How Do I Hate Thee? Let Me Count the Waze

I'd call myself a non-orthodox neo-luddite

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A famous (some say infamous) comedian spoke about his war with his machines. When he talked into his tape recorder, it said, "I know, I know."

After a litany of frustrations, he told about how once, his toaster burnt the toast.

In a rage, he beat up his toaster.

Some days later, a voice-controlled elevator in New York said, "Are you the guy who hit the toaster?" then shook him between floors and dumped him in the basement.

I have a less violent relationship with technology. It's more like cognitive dissonance — can't live with it; can't live without it. I 'd call myself a non-orthodox neo-luddite. I spend most of my day in front of a computer screen. But I like smart people and dumb phones.

While I was in Israel last year, we were visiting my sister-in-law every day at a nursing home in Maale Adumim, a small town in the Shomron (Samaria), four miles east of Jerusalem. My daughter insisted I take her phone so I could find my way around with Waze. My grandson gave me a half-hour crash course in using the thing. I didn't like the phone, but I knew I didn't want to get lost in that area.

We got an object lesson in the possibilities when, one night, convinced we already knew the way, we left the phone off.

Pretty soon, my wife realized we had missed the exit and wanted to make a U-turn. I thought I saw a familiar landmark. But it turned out to be just a generic gas station. Soon, a wall/ island sprang up on the highway, blocking any chance of making a U-turn.

We switched on the phone and found that the nearest exit was at Almog, 15 miles from Maale Adumim. We came back around and, after our 30-mile detour, we resolved ourselves to using the Waze.

But the fight was on.

On a trip from Ramat Beit Shemesh to visit my brother in Jerusalem, Waze took us through the tunnel road. It's an almost surreal, beautiful drive, and we were lulled into a false security when, abruptly, Waze told us to take a left to Bar Giora. Fifteen minutes later, it told us to make a U-turn and go back to the road we had left.

A week later, Thank Heaven, my son was still up and, even though it was only half a mile away, I was in a hurry and decided to drive.

I should have heard the phone maliciously chuckling. I soon wound up in a parking lot at a construction site. Mercifully, my son had left the door unlocked and I got in and managed to calm down enough to get my work done.

But the phone wasn't finished with me.

We spent the Sabbath in Sanhedria for a sheva brachos. Waze took us to an address in neighboring Ramat Eshkol, insisting that was the destination. It was too late to drive anywhere before Sabbath and we had to walk the rest of the way.

(Shomer pesa'im Hashem — G od watches over fools.

We were walking in Sanhedria, completely lost, and saw two girls. My wife asked them for directions. They didn't know the address, but one of them turned out to be my wife's cousin's granddaughter. As we were speaking with them, a woman passed by and directed us.)

But Waze was saving the best for last. One night it took us the scenic route — through the Palestinian village of Shuafat. (Thank Heaven, the locals either didn't notice us or just shrugged their shoulders at the strange apparition.)

But toward the end of our stay, after Sukkos last year, with the country at war, we were coming back from Maale Adumim one night and Waze sent us through a tunnel — the wrong way.

PTL, we backed out safely. My wife is a skilled driver and didn't lose her cool. But just as we pulled out, we were met by two military police with drawn machine guns. And this was right after orders had been issued to shoot first and ask questions later.

One of the MPs approached us, machine gun at the ready, and demanded to know what we were doing.

My wife answered, in English, "But Waze told us to go that way!"

With a classic gesture of unbelieving exasperation, he lowered the machine gun and shouted to his partner, something along the lines of, "It's just a couple of dumb Americans."

So why did all of this happen? Why me? I am convinced that the phone sensed I hated it. And it returned the favor. These days, I'm very careful how I talk to phones. You never know…

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Previously:
• Truthgate
• In the Scheme of Things
• Funny, It's Not
• Ready, Aim, Pray!
• Time Whorf
• Fathers Days
• The Elephant in The Kids' Room
• Beware the Ice of March
• The Theory of Negativity
• Truth Ache
• Holy Humor
• CAUTION: Joking Hazard
• Kludge Fixtures
• Canditedium: Just don't call me disinterested
• In Sanity: How Members of the Tribe do craziness
• You gotta like a guy who can 'feel or act' another's feelings in the mind's muscles --- still …
• The World of Words is Changing --- OY! What's a Jew to do?
• Unruly: Dos, Jews, and don'ts
• 'Noodging' Is Sacred
• Manipulated or Convinced?
• Lost in Translation
• Holy Tongue

Mordechai Schiller is a copyeditor and columnist at Hamodia, the Daily Newspaper of Torah Jewry, this first appeared.